


095 - Angsty Fight

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 03:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “one where van is your boyfriend and you go out and you end up arguing over something dumb where he’s wrong, and he ends up leaving you in the street bc he gets angry. And bondy picks you up?”





	095 - Angsty Fight

Van pushed the trolley along behind you. As you threw things in he looked at them with interest. It would be the first night of cooking for him since he got back. Every other evening was take away; both too exhausted from being reunited to think about ingredients and kitchen timers. 

He picked up the gravy mix. "Don't like this one," he said.

"It's the only one Jay can have though," you replied. Van stopped pushing the trolley, and you turned back to him. "What?" 

"Why's Jay coming?"

"Because we've not seen her in a while?"

He didn't say anything more, but when you asked if he wanted Yorkshire puddings or regular dinner rolls he shrugged in disinterest. He said he didn't care if you made apple pie or not, too. He followed along behind you in a building storm of tension. At the register the girl packed your groceries into paper bags. You could see she recognised Van. He hardly looked up as he picked the full bags off the counter and placed them into the trolley. She was biting her lip, considering if she should say anything. When he handed over his credit card she looked at it carefully. She smiled reading his full name. Usually perceptive, he didn't notice. You wanted to intervene, to tell Van to see if she wanted a photo. The mood was too off though. You just followed him out to the car.

"Van?" you said as he started to put the bags in the back. He didn't look up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied and his tone was childlike in its sulkiness.

"Do you want me to call Jay and say we're not feeling up to dinner?" He put the last bag in and let the boot door slam down.

"No. It's fine. I don't care." You watched him take the trolley to the bay. He walked straight past you to get into the driver's seat. You stopped him by taking his arm. He pulled it away from you and took a step back.

"You do care. I'll call her,"

"It doesn’t fucking matter, Y/N. Okay? Get in the fucking car," he ordered and slammed the door as he got in. You stood between his car and the one parked next to it, unmoving and angry. You did not respond to barked commands. The car started and Van wound the window down. "You coming?" he asked. You walked to stand next to his open window.

"Why are you being like this?" you asked.

"I'm not being like anything. Get in the car,"

"Don't tell me what to do. I didn't know you wanted it to be just us-"

"And I didn't know you were gonna invite Jay. Doesn't fucking matter now. It's fine. Get in the car, Y/N," he said again.

You folded your arms across your chest and shook your head. "I don't want to be near you if you're being like this,"

"Fine," he said and you watched the glass rise between him and you. The car reversed, and as he drove out of the parking lot you were amused at the drama of it. It wasn't until you'd been alone for two minutes that you felt the crashing sadness. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks and you looked around. A couple were loading their car up and their little girl was watching you. You tried to smile at her, to reassure her, but she hid behind her dad's legs. You walked back to the shopping centre building and sat on a bench out the front. Your wallet and keys were in your bag, in the back of the car. You had your phone in your pocket though. You called Jay first.

"Hey babe. What's up?" she greeted. You explained that you felt a bit sick, and asked if it was okay to get a raincheck on dinner. She was completely fine with it and said she'd call the next day to see if you needed chicken soup.

You waited another ten minutes to see if Van would come back. When he didn't, and the sun disappeared behind some clouds, it got harder and harder not to feel panicked. You kept holding back real crying, wiping rogue tears on your sleeve. A middle aged woman came up and asked if you were alright. You said you were just waiting for someone; all good. She nodded, not believing you, but powerless to do anything. She walked away.

When it had been twenty minutes since Van drove away, you pulled out your phone and considered who you could call. If you told any of your friends they might start to think Van was a bad guy. You didn't want that, and you didn't want to buy into the bitching that would inevitably happen in the car ride home. You needed someone that understood Van and you. Someone who wouldn't give a fuck to judge, but was still comforting. You found Bondy's number in your contacts and called.

"Yelllllo?" he answered. You went to speak but only sobs came out. "Woah, woah, woah. Y/N. Take a fucking breath, yeah? What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Van-" was all you managed to get out.

"Van what? Is he alright?"

"He's a cunt," you answered. Bondy laughed in both relief and amusement.

"What's he done?"

You told him where you were, and he said he'd be there soon. You pulled your legs up onto the bench and wrapped your arms around them. You rested your head down and closed your eyes and waited. 

You nearly jumped out of skin when a car horn sounded close by. You hadn't fallen asleep, but you were in deep thought. Bondy was pulled up in front of you. You quickly walked to his car and fell into the front passenger seat. At first you didn't speak. Three songs played before you had something to say.

"Do you think I should be angry at him?" you asked.

"Well, why'd he leave you there?" You explained and as you did you realised how petty it all sounded. So small. "I don't know, Y/N. He gets these ideas in his head, you know? Gets frustrated when they don’t work out. Usually he will just work with it though. Sure dinner with Jay would have been fine,"

"I know, but he was so moody,"

"Yeah. Unlike him. Can see why you were weirded out. He shouldn't have left. I mean, it's day time, it's a crowded place, but still. How long has it been?"

You checked your phone. "Just over half an hour," you said but it felt like hours and hours. "I thought he'd come back,"

"Yeah. Would have thought so too. He loves you, Y/N. A lot. You're all he talks about, and even when he isn't talkin' about you he still really is. All the songs and the plans. Somehow it’s always about you. You got a right to be pissed about this, no fucking doubt, but… he probably just wanted to be with you?"

You nodded and knew he was right. You sat in silence for the rest of the ride home. When you got there Van's car wasn't in the driveway. You looked over at Bondy. He shrugged. "Do you want me to wait with you?"

You made tea and sat at the kitchen table with Bondy. He smoked, and you preheated the oven. You pretended like there would still be a nice dinner. An entire hour passed and Van wasn't home. "Should I call him?" you asked Bondy. He nodded, but Van didn't pick up. You tried Larry.

"Hey," he answered and his tone told you that Van was with him.

"Hey, Larry. Um. Van's with you?"

"Yeah," he answered slowly. Van was probably giving him directions. "Where are you?" Larry asked.

"Home. Bond came and got me," you said.

"Okay," he paused and you could hear them talking but the sound was muffled by Larry's hand over his phone. "Van says he'll see you tomorrow,"

"What? No," you started to cry straight away. You stood up. "Tell him he has to come home,"

"She's crying," you heard Larry say to Van, he'd not covered the phone. "Says you have to go home… … … Y/N? He's… You're safe at home, yeah? I have to go. You're alright, though," and before you could protest he hung up. You dropped your phone to the table and covered your mouth with both hands. Bondy stood and pulled you into a hug. You cried against his chest.

"He's not coming home?" you said like a question.

"Yeah. He's fucking up,"

"Why doesn't he want to see me?"

"It's not… He… I don't know, Y/N. Do you want me to call Jay or someone for you?"

"I want Van," you cried harder. He sighed and nodded. You could feel how frustrated he was at his friend. When you'd settled down, he put you on the couch and went outside. You knew he was calling Van. When he came back in he sat in the arm chair and put his feet up on the coffee table. He turned the television on and didn't say another word until you both heard the front door open. He got up and met Van in the kitchen.

"I'm gonna head off," Bondy said walking back into the lounge. You stood up and hugged him.

"Thank you, Bond," you said. He nodded and kissed your cheek. You stood awkwardly in the lounge and listened to his car start and drive off. You took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. Van was sitting at the table. He had one arm draped over a second chair, and was smoking. His legs were stretched out in front of him resting on a third chair. He looked up at you as you walked in. You didn't know what to say, so you said nothing. You knew what you wanted to do. You wanted to hit him as he tried to pull you into a hug. It was a dangerous thought, and not one you wanted to think. You sat down opposite Van. He finished the cigarette before speaking.

"I shouldn't have left you alone. Anything could have happened. I'm sorry," he spoke carefully, like his words were planned. They probably were.

"It's-" you went to say 'it's okay' but it wasn’t. It was a fucked up thing to do. He looked up when you started the sentence. He knew what you were going to say, and seemed unsurprised that you stopped yourself. "Yeah. Um. I'm alright," you took a shaky breath in and it didn't exactly prove your point. "I'm sorry that I didn't ask you before inviting Jay,"

"I don't know why I cared so much, Y/N. Didn't mean to go all weird. I just… Just wanted to cook with you and have it be just us?"

"I know. I just didn't think,"

"I'm so fucking sorry," he said and it meant 'forgive me' and 'I love you.'

"Me too."

He stood and walked to you, pulled you up and held you tighter than he ever had before. It hurt your ribcage and you had to whimper and squirm to make him let you go. He held your face in his hands and kissed your forehead.

"Also anything frozen we bought is probably melted." The groceries had been in the car for hours.

You followed him out and carried the bags in. You went through to see what had gone bad. Only the ice cream had to be thrown out. Everything else would be alright. 

As you kneaded your own bread dough and Van mixed a marinade, the tension slowly but surely faded away. He came and stood behind you as you mixed a little milk and secret spices into the mashed potato. He held your hips and made them sway in time with his and the music.

"Y/N?" You hummed in reply. "I love you,"

"I know. I love you, too."


End file.
